Page 27

Twenty-Five

Why was I so nervous?

I was staring absentmindedly at my own reflection, methodically letting the electric toothbrush whizz over my teeth. Adam was in the bedroom, waiting for me to come and turn off the light and get in next to him.

God, why was I so nervous? This was Adam.

Rinsing my mouth out and unplugging my toothbrush, I let out a weary breath.

Not that I was tired anymore, far from it.

If anything, I was wide awake, and as I moved from the bathroom across the hall, standing in the doorway to my bedroom, there he was, leaning against my bedhead, his arms crossed over his bare torso, accentuating the curve of his biceps clearly visible even by lamplight.

The shadows accentuated the telltale signs of fatigue and worry on his face, something so clear to me now I wondered how I had missed all the signs that there was something seriously wrong.

His eyes were a million miles away and regardless of how we had had such a relaxed, carefree night, it hadn’t been enough.

It would never be enough. I really didn’t want that to be his final thoughts before sleep; wherever his mind was it was clear it was weighted down with something troubling.

I slipped inside the room, Adam’s attention snapping toward me only when I shut the door.

He straightened to attention, lifting his brows.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I repeated, standing before him in my singlet and Supergirl boxers.

Yep, there was nothing awkward about any of this.

Adam leant back against the headboard, linking his hands behind his head. “Tell me a story, Ellie,” he said with a devious little smirk.

My heart leapt in approval seeing a glimpse of the old Adam; you could see moments of the real Adam desperately wanting to break through and it was my job to set him free.

I made my way to my cupboard, a walk-in robe that was almost bigger than my entire apartment.

I could feel Adam’s eyes boring into the back of me.

I could imagine the quizzical frown plastered across his brow as he wondered what I was doing.

I had even wondered that myself as I dragged forward a large packing box, peeling the masking tape from it and opening the flaps to reveal the hidden contents, on top where I had placed them two months before.

My diaries. Piling a random selection into my arms I carried them to the bed, kind of loving Adam’s look of uncertainty.

I dumped them on my side of the bed, climbing on top of the mattress next to Adam and crossing my legs. Adam went to reach out for a diary, but I slapped his hand away.

“Uh-uh,” I warned. “I’m the storyteller around here.

“Okaaay,” Adam said slowly, still completely unsure about exactly what was going on.

“You want a trip down memory lane?”

“Through the eyes of Ellie Parker?” he mused.

I nodded.

Adam grinned, so broad, so bright I could feel my chest tighten at such a familiar thing as that smile.

“Now this I gotta hear.”

I grabbed a random diary, 1995, flicking through the pages, ensuring that the entry was appropriate; I mean, I had to keep some secrets. I landed on something I could use; grinning like a fool I cleared my throat and straightened my spine.

“Dear Diary …”

I kind of want to kill Adam. Like, slow strangulation style.

I might just do it if he wasn’t already injured (self-imposed injury, that is) The idiot fell off a pool table, or ping pong table, or whatever kind of table he shouldn’t have been on.

Dancing up there with some tarty girls from Year Ten, his toga outfit tucked into his shorts, it’s a sight you just can’t unsee.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am eternally grateful that he landed me the job at the Onslow, but now he’s getting sent away to his Nan’s and I am soooo mad! This summer was going to be epic, and now it’s just going to plain suck without the infuriating little bugger.

Adam was already laughing. “Bloody hell, that summer sucked so bad.”

“Yours did? At least you got out of being slaved around in a forty-degree kitchen with crazy Rosanna.”

“Well, back then you had Stan to comfort you after your shifts.”

My smile faltered a little; it just seemed weird talking about my ex with Adam, and thinking back to 1995 I had no doubt the majority of my diary entries would be about Stan, with love hearts and signatures—Mrs Ellie Remington—scrawled throughout. I placed the diary aside.

Picking up 1993, I flicked through the pages, glancing up at Adam who looked on expectantly; he was enjoying this, I could tell.

“Dear Diary …”

Jumping on the bus tomorrow to Maitland.

Mum says I’m only allowed to go if I go with someone else so HELLO, Adam!

! I realise that my shopping expedition is going to be hindered with his constant whingeing as I drag him around all the girly shops, but I think I am going to kind of enjoy torturing him. Bwahahaha …

I hid my smile with the diary, taking in Adam’s horrified look.

“Unbelievable.”

“Oh, but we had a good day.”

“Oh sure, you looking through accessories at Sportsgirl was the time of my life.” Adam looked wistful as if recalling a fond memory.

I giggled, remembering it all too well. Adam had passed out on the bus on the way home, exhausted.

I flicked through to another page, one that had me laughing not because of what was written, but because of a stick-figure drawing of the three of us.

“Check it out, no wonder I failed art.”

We went on well into the night, picking out little key moments, all the Adam ones mainly; I skimmed over all the boy crushes and bitchy-girl comments. Even if they were the most mundane entries, it was nothing if not hilarious mimicked in my teenage voice as I read them out loud.

I eventually found one entry that didn’t have me laughing so much as pouting.

“Awww.”

“What?”

My vision became blurred as I read through the entry. It was a late night one, marked 1:25 a.m.; I always put the time of entry. This one had occurred the day Adam had defended me against Sarah Norman, and the diary incident.

“What’s it say?”

What had begun as the worst day of my life could have possibly turned into the best. Is it possible to adore Adam Henderson any more than I do?

“That was over Sarah Norman’s diary. Remember finding me crying in the girls’ toilets, a blubbering mess?”

Adam was thinking back with a smile. “Yeah, I remember. I said I had your back.”

My eyes snapped up from the page, my heart thundering against my chest.

“That’s exactly what you said.”